


Lost dreams

by Plaidandwaywardsons



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Fanfic, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-09 21:44:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1998966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plaidandwaywardsons/pseuds/Plaidandwaywardsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak is a makeup artist at MAC, eventhough his real passion lies in costumes, and traditional art. Dean, on the other hand, works at his friend's Ellen's bar, and helps fix cars at the workshop. When Ellen leaves for a few days, she puts Dean in charge of the store, only to find the workers nothing more than rude and horrible. Only one person didn't take shots at him: Cas. </p><p>Cas still hated Dean, of course, he just hadn't the voice to express it with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rude Costumers

**Author's Note:**

> so...um...first fanfiction. I've nothing more to write up here I guess.

Castiel pushed his way past the front doors of the MAC store, grabbing a black apron off the hanger and continuing to the checkout counter. His coworker Meg had already situated herself behind the register, reading an out of date magazine and clicking her tongue out of boredom.

“What, no hello?” she didn’t glance up, but her sarcasm rang loud and clear. Castiel ignored her, just as he did every day since he was hired 3 weeks ago. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like the girl or anything, he just wasn’t fond of speaking. 

He picked up the day’s schedule, left by the manager along with a note telling him she would return by opening at 9. 

Meg glanced over, letting out a huff. “You would think she would stop making that promise by now. I’m kind of tired of running the place during her absence.”

Castiel silently agreed, collecting his set of cosmetic brushes to be used on the multiple clients that wander in, most ignorant and rude. He sighed, wondering how much longer he was going to have to stay in this store before finding a better job.

The first client walked in five after nine, demanding help finding her shade in foundation. Castiel quickly found a suitable match, only to have her disagree and force him to pick out a new one. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, and he had grown used to dealing with constant bitchiness.

Eventually Ellen showed, claiming that she had to wrap up some stuff at the bar before leaving it to Ash. 

“You’re a manager at a goddamn MAC store, why do you still work at that shack?” Meg turned a page in her magazine, which she hasn’t put down since Castiel walked through the door. 

“It’s paid off, and has sentimental value.” She ends there, walking into the back room, where she doesn’t have to deal with Meg’s criticism. 

The rest of the workday was uneventful, as always. When Castiel hung his apron at the end of the day, he felt relief wash over him. He wouldn’t have to walk into this place for 3 days, as he had Fridays and the weekend off. 

“Novak!”

Castiel pursed his lips in annoyance before walking back into the store, where Ellen was waiting impatiently for him to show up.

“I have to go visit Jo at college, and I’m putting one of my bartenders in charge while I'm gone.”

Castiel nodded, turning back around to attempt to escape to his apartment, maybe a bar if one’s close enough.

“And I want you here tomorrow and Saturday to help him. Extra pay.”

He sighed, simply nodding in submission before finally starting his voyage into the mall. 

———

Dean flashed another flirtatious smile at the blonde, who blushed immediately. He slid another shot over to her, knowing he was getting some tonight. He was just about to make the igniting move when the door opened, and a man with disheveled hair and wrinkled clothes walked in and sat a few seats over.

Dean glanced back at the girl, who suddenly looked extremely dull next to the new man. He winked at her, only to see her face fall when he went to serve the new guy.

“What can I get ya?” He asked, tapping a shot glass against the table.

Goddamn he was sexy. Piercing blue eyes, dark hair, full lips, this dude was the full package. He adorned a tan trench coat, which was overlapping a black t shirt that clung to his chest, disclosing that it was skinny, yet toned.

“Beer.” The man spat it out, as if it was difficult to utter the word. Dean almost didn't understand it at first, too busy losing himself in the deepness and rough edge to the vocals. His eyes travelled to meet blue ones already staring. They kept the eye contact until the new man coughed, breaking it. Dean almost felt disappointed.

He bent down to grab a beer from the mini fridge that resided under the bar’s surface. He placed it in front of the man, watching him twist it open and down the first quarter in one sip. 

“So…haven’t seen you in here before.” Dean flashed his smile, so well known for enticing people into his bed. “You are?”

The man took another swig, making another chunk disappear from the bottle. “Castiel.”

 

“Well Cas, you look extremely sexy tonight. Or is that just an everyday look for you?” Dean felt confident he would be able to woo this one easily, despite the multiple women, along with a few men, giving Cas a once over.

Cas stared at Dean, squinting his eyes and tilting his head slightly. He gave no reaction, which deterred Dean quite a bit. He always gets at least a blush, but with this guy, nothing. 

Dean felt the eyes of the whole bar on him. He never failed, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to tonight. “Would you like another drink? On me.” Hopefully, he could get Cas drunk enough to take him home, as it was clear that wasn’t going to happen sober.

“No,” was the only reply Dean got before Cas got up and left, and the murmurs started.


	2. awkward encounter

Castiel pushed through the doors of his building, which was run down and looked as if it was about to tip over. He walked up the stairs, silently cursing Ellen the whole way upstairs. It wasn’t as if he had a choice though, he needed the extra cash. HIs car had broken down a few days beforehand, and repair wasn’t cheap.

Castiel sighed, pulling out a rusty key and unlocking his door to enter. He didn’t bother turning on the TV or anything, just went straight to bed. The one beer he had at Ellen’s bar hadn’t affected him much, and he wasn’t eager to walk into work the next day with a hangover.

As he was drifting to sleep, Castiel thought back to the bar, where that dude was trying to pick him up. Honestly, the guy was plain irritating. Attractive, sure, but it seemed as if he just can’t leave people to their own business. 

As irritating as Castiel found the bartender, he was the last thought he had before drifting to sleep.

———

Dean walked through the mall, trying to locate the store Ellen needed him to chaperone at. He wasn’t particularly eager to work at a goddamned make up store, but he needed the extra cash. Sammy was going to college soon, and even though he was practically guaranteed a full scholarship, Dean wasn’t about to take any chances.

Dean eventually made it to the front doors of the MAC store, and trudged through. He was surprised by how much stuff was in there, and the colors that swirled themselves throughout the room, often entangling with one another. 

Dean was finishing his tour around the store when the doors swung open again, revealing the guy he had tried hitting on the night before, Cas.

Cas looked up at Dean, not nearly as fazed as Dean was. First, that he was forced to work with the dude he wanted to take home, and that he wanted to take home a dude into makeup. 

Nevertheless, Dean approached him “Hey,” he exclaimed, along with a wave. He waited for a reply, which didn’t come. Cas spared him a glance, but nothing more.

Dean wasn’t exactly expecting the world from the guy, but had depended on the fact that Cas would have basic manners and societal needs in tact concerning communication. Instead, he felt as if he was talking to his cat. Knowing he heard him, but was adamant on complete ignorance of his presence.

Dean sighed, turning back towards the front of the store and making his way to the desk housing the cash register, planning on hiding out there for the rest of the weekend. He would leave the actual customer interactions to Cas, as he would know what to do better than he would.

His plan was sufficient for the majority of the day, as he only had to speak with customers once they had finished complaining and were checking out. He was still bored as hell, don’t get the wrong idea, but it wasn’t torture.   
Dean was playing with the pens lying next to the register, daydreaming about whatever crossed his mind in the moment. His attention was snapped back to the store when he heard some yelling towards the entrance.

“What the hell, this isn’t what I fucking wanted! Bitch, get your shit together, I have places to be,” an older man was practically screaming at Cas, who was cowering slightly in front of him. He was clutching a small black box, most likely containing the product that pissed the guy off so much. 

“You didn’t tell me what you wanted. You told me to get what women liked. Last time I checked, a woman would like anything that comes out of this store,” despite his slightly fearful position, Cas spoke firmly, and in a somewhat degrading tone.

This was the first time Dean heard Cas speak all day. 

“You know what, fuck this. I’ll just let my wife know never to do business here again, and that the shitty customer service is why she has no birthday gift,” the man turned to leave, throwing Cas a disgusted face as he exited the store, thinking he had every reason to believe the world was out to get him.

Dean walked over, surprised Cas had handled it so well. He would never admit it aloud, but his first impression of Cas amongst the customers depicted him to be fairly weak minded and appeasing.

“How often to dicks like that waltz in here?” Dean asked, hoping to break the silence.

“Too often,” were the only words Cas spoke before returning to his work restocking some eyeshadow.

“So…how long have you been working here?” 

Cas paused for a moment, glanced back, and held up three fingers.

“Three years?” Dean was astounded someone could work in this environment for so long without breaking.

“Weeks.”

That made more sense.

“Well, do you like it?” the only response Dean received was a look of pure ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ from Cas.

“Alright then, I’m just gonna…” Dean pointed awkwardly at the desk, as he turned back toward it.

As he sat down at the desk, he spent some time wondering why Cas’s words were so sparse, and if he could do anything to change that.


End file.
